she walks in high heeled leather boots
my Dixie with the long tanned legs
and she struts, and on her lips she sings
"these boots are made for walking"
her heels thud against the pavement as she stomps
a runway kinda strut, where, her hips swing ominously
and her dress swivels around her thighs
it makes the boys gawk, mouths open
and, in time to her steps, you can hear jaws hitting cement
it's like cartoon classics all over again
where the wolf views the prey and his eyes bulge, they buuullggee
out of their sockets/pockets (whatever)
oogling my Dixie as she walks by, and I, I in the background
a mouse, a mouse beside a lioness, and therefore quite invisible
YES! invisible behind the beauty of my wonderful Dixie
she with long dark hair, and I pale in comparison
like the moon in the sky eclipsed by Venus rising
she is tall, and dark and mysterious
she walks, and in the shadow of her wake
I wander, lost in the telltale signs of her heartbreak victories
she leans back to me, once in a while and whispers that she's eager
eager to find fresh meat, some new morsel that she can devour and make hers
she does not seem to be satiated enough, enough to STOP, stop this madness
she turns on heel and, while the red hand flashes, waits to cross the street
and she smiles, stealthily as some new Dick walks over and makes her acquaintance
she asks him, without embarrassment, if he'd like to show her a good time
and if, if he's got the goods to back up his mouth
he turns, and uses me as a shield, and shows Dixie he's got the goods
the minerals, he says and the jolly good capability of using them well
Dixie smiles, she smiles always at this, and then leads him home
coming dolly, she smiles at me and I follow,
eclipsed in the power of her incandescence
she like Venus Rising, and I, I pale like the moon
Nyx...
Author notes
Written August 30th, 2004
In a list
What did you think
Comments
-
This is the original form of that wench I met in "100 Miles Per Hour..." The wanton succubus that wills to devour and conquer. She is beautiful in her sensuality, that Dixie with the red, red lips. She reminds me of a photograph, in B&W, yet she still retains all color and reality. Sometimes she is so real to me I am sure we dreamed her. I know that doesn't make any sense. Sorry.
She is pretty, but pretty like a snake or a wolf...deadly as well. In each one of these poems I see how she kills you just a little bit more...yet she sustains you as well. I'll drink to that.
LIX
Edited on Sep 07, 9:36 p.m. because 'Pixel Pixies'. -
Have you seen her all in gold?
Like a queen in days of old
She shoots her colors all around
like a sunset going down
Have you seen a lady fairer?
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
That Rolling stone song came to me as I read this one. Not sure it fits but it does in my mind as I try to get a grip on exactly who and what Dixie is. Whoever she is, I like her.
Desiree
Edited on Sep 02, 10:50 because ''. -
old school.
the first impression i had of dixie was that she was childlike, but she has assumed complete control. it is as if the subconscious, the computer that operates on chemicals and instinct, is repeatedly overwhelming the thinking mind. it made me think of jack kerouac - YEAH, dixie is BEAT!
Adding your comment:
2 old applause
